


Why

by Waterfall_Creek97



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Post-Episode: s05e22 Swan Song
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-14
Updated: 2015-04-14
Packaged: 2018-03-22 20:08:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3742024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Waterfall_Creek97/pseuds/Waterfall_Creek97
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post 5x22 Swan Song<br/>Sam's gone, and Dean's dealing with his grief.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Why

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! So, this is my first Supernatural story, so please be kind. All mistakes are my own so apologies of there are any errors! And please feel free to give constructive reviews, as I would love to hear your thoughts:)  
> I know I might have made Dean a little OOC, but this is what I thought could be going through his head after Sam's death.  
> I know I put the Major Character Death warning, but that is just in reference to Sam's death. No one actually dies in the story, but I figured I'd put it out there just in case.  
> There are, I guess, minor spoilers to the earlier seasons, in some of my references though I don't think that there's many.  
> All the quotes are based off of my memory and summarized of the actual events so please excuse if some things aren't quite right. I hope though that each one is kinda obvious to when it happened though! In the original form it was in italics but I couldn't get it to do that so....I hope you'll understand it:)  
> So.....Enjoy!

“It's okay, Dean. It's going to be okay......I've got him.”

 

Dean shook his head to try and clear it before pouring himself another drink whiskey. He couldn't get Sam's last words to stay away. It was like it was on one big loop, going round and round in an unending cycle of pain and grief. 

 

It had been a week since Sam had pulled Lucifer and Michael into the pit that opened into the Cage, and it felt like his life had lost all purpose. Even with all the fights and the anger between them these last two years since Dean's return, Sam was still everything to him. He was his pain in the ass little brother, the one who was always there to have his back. He was his. 

 

Dean emptied the glass with one gulp and poured himself another. He swirled the cup, staring into the glass as if it had all the answers that he needed. Namely, how exactly could he get Sam back. Sure, he'd promised him that he would go to Lisa, live the apple pie lifestyle that Sam had always wanted for them, that he would move on and ignore what had happened. But he couldn't. Not without at least trying first. He couldn't just give up like that.....not on Sam.

 

“It's okay, Sammy, It's okay. I'm here, I'm not leaving you.”

 

Dean stood abruptly and threw his glass across the room and into the hotel room wall, the whiskey trickling down the old wallpaper like rain on a window. He grabbed his chair and threw it into the wall, then pushed all the books, notes and papers onto the floor. Tears spilled unwittingly down his face, coating his cheeks in a wet sheen. He turned and pulled the pillows from the bed and threw them across the room, but couldn't bring himself to touch the other bed in the room.....Sam's bed. 

 

Dean collapsed on the edge of the bed farthest from the door, Sam's bed, hands covering his face as memories that he didn't want to remember started trickling in before turning into a flood. All the hurtful words that had been said between them, all the fights and the hits that both hearts had taken more than ever before. Though things had turned physical between them and punches thrown, that would have been the easiest thing to forgive, for both of them. The words however, that would be harder. The things said in spite, the words that had been twisted around and used to hurt, to tear, to maim their relationship. The words that killed them, that murdered them.

 

“What are you saying, Dean?”

 

“I'm saying I can't trust you.”

 

Dean leaned over, hands gripping his knees tightly, knuckles turning white from the tightness of it. Grief and pain flowed through him in equal measures. How could he ever say that to Sam, and mean it? How could he ever hurt him that way? Why did things get so bad between them, so bad that they couldn't just talk it out and let it go, let it be forgiven? Why did they have to hurt each other so much? And now, it would never be fixed. They would never get things worked out and be brothers again. 

 

Sam fell into that hole thinking he didn't trust him anymore, that he didn't really want him around anymore, thinking that he hated him, when that was so far from the truth. Sure, he'd been angry and disappointed with Sam for listening to Ruby, for drinking demon blood, for using his “powers”, for not listening to him when all he wanted was for him to be safe, but he hadn't hated him. In fact, he kinda understood. Sam had been left all alone, with no one to look after him or be there for him, for the first time in his life. He'd been desperate to find Dean, to bring him back, to not be alone anymore. And Ruby had been there, had been the one to help Sam through his grief. She'd manipulated him, in the worst way possible; by using Dean. By telling him that he could save him from a lifetime in hell. And looking back on it, Dean probably would've done the same thing in that situation. And he'd given Sam so much crap over it.

 

Dean stood and grabbed the whiskey bottle from the table, taking a swig of it. He couldn't deal with it, deal with the hurt anymore. It hurt more than anything had ever hurt before. And it couldn't be fixed. Ever. He was alone, just like his little brother had been. Now he knew what Sam had felt like during that damn Mystery Spot debacle and when he'd gone to hell.

 

Sure, Castiel was still around occasionally, but Dean blamed him for some of the strife between him and Sam. Castiel never liked Sam much, nor Sam him, and then when he took the amulet Sam had given him to look for God......a whole hell of a lot of pain started. Dean still remembered the heartbroken, devastated look on Sam's face when he'd dropped the amulet in the trash after Cas had returned it, shoving all the pain and hurt in his brother's face. He'd regretted it right after he'd done it, still regretted it to this day and would for the rest of his life, but he'd been so damn tired of it all. Especially after seeing Sam's “heaven”, even though it was pretty obvious to anyone paying any sort of attention that it had been manipulated by that bastard angel Zachariah. He'd wanted them apart as much, if not more, than the demons did. He'd wanted the apocalypse. And they'd just been pawns in a game that wouldn't have ever ended well, no matter who was playing.

 

Dean leaned against a wall and slid down until he was in a sitting position, taking another sip of the whiskey as he did so. No matter how he thought about any of it, all he could see was a pain between them that didn't have to be there. He wished he hadn't had been so raw from hell, and Sam raw from being alone to fight the good fight. Then things could've been fixed so much more easily.

 

“Jerk.”

 

“Bitch.”

 

Dean sighed, thumping his head against the wall. Why did things have to change so much? Why couldn't heaven and hell just left them the heck alone? Why did they have to be the ones to save the world? Hadn't they sacrificed enough? And now, the biggest sacrifice had been made. And for what, no one to give a damn? Sammy just saved the whole world at the cost of himself, and no one knew. And to be honest, he didn't give a crap about the world. He would've let it all rot if it meant that he had his brother back.

 

“Hope your happy you feather brained and black-eyed sons-of-bitches, because if I see you again I'm gonna make you pay for what you did to my brother.” Dean whispered to the still air. And he would. He would hunt down every last one of them and make them pay. He would make them all pay.

 

Dean took another pull from the bottle. He shouldn't be drinking this much, he knew that, he could actually hear Sam bitching about it, but he couldn't make himself stop. Not now. Not when he just lost his brother, permanently this time. No one was willing to make a deal. In fact, it was as if they were scared to. And that scared Dean, because if they weren't willing to do a deal then that meant they knew something about what Lucifer was capable of so....what did that mean for Sammy?

 

Dean closed his eyes, still leaning against the wall as he thought about the sort of-kinda fight he and Sam had about him jumping in the pit, with the devil riding him. Why hadn't he tried harder to talk Sam out of it? Sure, Sam had been determined, but Dean also knew that he was doing it because he felt like he had something to prove to him. Like he had to prove to Dean that he was trustworthy, when he hadn't needed to. Dean knew that already. So why didn't he fight harder, even though he knew that was what Sam was thinking? Could some part of him wanted Sam gone? Dean shook his head, refusing to think like that. No, he didn't want his brother gone, no matter how much he made it seem like to Sam.

 

“We're better of apart, Sam. We're weaker when we're together, not stronger. So I say let's each pick a hemisphere and stick with it.”

 

“You don't mean that.”

 

“Yeah, Sam, I do.”

 

More tears slid down Dean's face, but at the moment he didn't care. He knows he'd hurt Sam so much with saying that, if by the wary look he'd gotten when they finally met up again meant anything. But at the time, it had felt right. He'd been tired of their relationship being used by both sides and just wanted an end for it. Well, that is until he saw exactly what happened to the world when they stayed like that. Dean couldn't imagine Sam saying yes to Lucifer but he guessed, if the pain between them became too much, Sam got tired of it all too. And he couldn't really blame him.

 

Dean continued to sit there. Trying to think of better times, but all he could make himself remember was them being willing to die for one another without the pressure from outside parties.

 

“I had to protect you, Sam. It's my job to look after you.”

 

“Don't you think I would do the same for you?”

 

Sam had proven he'd do the same, even when Dean felt like he couldn't. But Dean wished Sam had been just a little bit selfish. Then maybe, he'd still be here with him.

 

“Sam, I....”

 

“Yeah. Me too, Dean.”

 

Dean snorted. If only he'd worked up the nerve to tell Sam he'd loved him, once, before this all went down. Maybe some things would have been different. Why hadn't he?

 

Dean looked over to the bed that would've housed Sam in a right world. He missed him so freaking much. Even when Sam was being moody, or when he wanted to talk to much, at least he was there. Now, there's just this empty silence hanging around like a dark cloud waiting to pour down on him.

 

Dean pulled out his phone, scrolling through a few things before he found what he wanted. A picture of him and Sam from before hell. They'd been so happy then, carefree almost. Back when pretty much all they hunted were ghosts, and wendigos and werewolves. Dean wished he could go back to that moment and savor it in a way that he hadn't thought to.

 

Dean thought back to one of the last real conversations he had with his brother.

 

“Don't look for me, Dean.”

 

“What the hell are you talking about? Of course I'm gonna try and find a way to get you out.”

 

“No, Dean, you're not. When this is over I want you to go find Lisa, settle down, have that nice apple pie life I've wanted for you. Be happy. Don't get caught up looking for a way, when we both know there isn't one. Promise me.”

 

“I can't promise that, Sammy.”

 

“Promise me.”

 

“......Promise.”

 

“That was a stupid thing to make me promise, Sam. You know I can't stop looking for you.” Dean said to the empty air, knowing he'd receive no response but waiting for one all the same. At the silence, he gave a bitter laugh.

 

“I can't keep that promise, Sam. I can't just leave you to rot with those douche bags doing whatever they want to you. Why? Why'd you make me promise that?!” Dean shouted before breaking down into sobs. He couldn't keep that promise. He couldn't. He couldn't, he couldn't, he couldn't.

 

“Promise me.”

 

Sam's voice echoed in his mind, fueling his tears. He sobbed for a few more moments, before pulling himself together enough to croak out.

 

“Alright, Sam. I promise.”

 

~*~

 

Dean knocked on the door, regretting being here but here all the same. He turned towards the door completely when it was pulled open to reveal Lisa. She watched him for a moment before stepping aside and pushing the door open some more. Dean hesitated a second before lightly placing his foot over the threshold.


End file.
